It's only yesterday...

Not really sure what to write this evening but I feel as though I need to write. As time passes it doesn't get any easier. Expectations from others increases. It feels as though some people think I should be over this now. That I should be moving on now. That I should be able to return to a completely normal working routine as I had before. That I should be able to do easy tasks like get up in the morning and make it into work first thing because they can do it and because I managed it before Luke went. Or that I should be able to teach an entire day without any consequences to my own mental state and why would I need any time out? Everyone else manages to teach an entire day without needing a time out. So they think I should be able to do this too.

Some people think that I should be able to keep up with conversations because that's easy. They think I should be able to just get on with it. They think that I should be able to do something each day easily. They think I should be able to sleep normally. They think that I should be having more good days than bad days. They think I should be able to deal with this now. 'This'. My entire world has crashed around me and everything I was has been stripped away. I'm left with a suffocating pain and numbness and total loss. I'm left not knowing who I am or what I am supposed to do. I'm left knowing that I'll never see Luke ever again and it becomes hard to breathe at the thought and yet all of this is just described in an easy simple word, 'this'. Maybe that's why people don't get it. Because this horrific event has been tamed into a word that we can handle; this. As humans our brains are designed to protect us and I guess people thinking of 'this' is easier than facing what 'this' really is for me.

I'm fed up of people thinking I should be able to do things because then I start believing that I should be able to do them. Now this would be a perfectly fine thing to think...if I was actually capable of doing them!!!!!!! But instead I'm left with should should should. And when I can't, that's all I see. I see that I have failed again. I see that again I didn't manage the normal daily things, so what is the point in any of this at all? Again I didn't achieve what I 'should' be able to do and I'm met with judgmental opinions from people that have no fucking idea what 'this' is really like.

On a positive note though, there are some amazing people who have been an absolute rock and an amazing support. They know who they are! :)  I've been chatting to a very helpful lady and she explained that 'should' is an awful word to use when someone is grieving. It's a word that I am not supposed to use anymore for myself. The only thing I can do is to listen to what my mind and body is telling me I need. And when I manage to do something I need to recognise that as an achievement. Even if all I do is get out of bed and sit on the sofa all day. I have achieved getting out of bed. Which to be fair in the first few weeks I probably did see as an achievement but then time moved on, so did everyone else and I allowed their opinions to cloud my reality. Because to them, my life should now be back to normal because theirs is. But I no longer see getting out of bed as an achievement because I 'should' be doing more by now.

But to me, it's as though it was only yesterday that I was told Luke had come off his motorbike and that he has been pronounced dead at the scene. To me it's only yesterday that I was driving around frantically trying to find out which hospital Luke had been taken to. It was only yesterday that I was phoning as many people as I could to find out where they were taking Luke and whether he was ok. It was only yesterday that I sat in that Chapel, waiting. Waiting for someone to tell me it was all just a joke. That there had been a mistake. I waited a very long time. I waited Luke but there was no mistake.

It was only yesterday that I would discover that Luke wasn't going to be taken anywhere; that I couldn't go and see him. To me it was only yesterday that I was told that the man I love more than I can describe, the man I was going to marry would never again be coming home. He would never take another breath or say my name. To me it's only yesterday. So forgive me if all I achieve is getting out of bed and choosing to start another fucking shit ass day without my best friend and my Luke. Forgive me if I fail to meet your 'should' expectations. Forgive me if I need time out of a day. I wonder how well you would do if you were in my position? To me it is only yesterday and I am still learning how to live without Luke. I am still learning how I am supposed to survive and cope with a life I never planned or expected to live. It is only yesterday and I am new to this.

As I briefly mentioned above, our brains are very clever. They will protect us against too much trauma. This is partially why there is 'denial' as a part of grief (so I'm told). It's our brain's way of only letting us have what we can handle at that time. So on the days when I can't move from my sofa, on the days when I can't get out of bed, on the days when I just want to curl up and cry that's ok. That's my body healing and that's my body saying, "I need this right now." On the days when I actually manage to do something, that is apparently my mind and body saying...Yes you can handle that at the moment.

The lady explained that I now need to learn to listen to what my body is saying it can and can't handle, instead of listening to other people's expectations of me. She explained that my body on some days is saying 'yes you can do that but you can't do that, that AND that as well.' This is why I end up crashing after a couple of days of productiveness. (By productiveness I mean, decided to start yet another day all over again, make it into work and interact with people. Or if it's a weekend...managing to get up at some point and actually getting something to eat.)

She said pacing would help. (It won't help me feel better. It would just help.) I just have to identify what I can do and when I just need to sit out (that's the difficult part because all around me is this imposed word of 'should', so I need to distinguish between what I can do and what other people think I should be able to do.) But I am beginning to recognise the signs when I need to leave and need to be out of the way. I'm beginning to recognise, I think, when I just need to stop pushing the feelings back and stop fighting my way through, so that I can rest. So that my body has a chance to rest and deal with things (apparently).

This is all just too hard. It's too hard and I don't have any option but to keep going through it. There are very few situations in life where you have no choice and this is one of the worst ones. Everywhere I look, I see where Luke used to be. I see what we could have been. I see what we were. I see memories of Luke in every room that I walk into. I can't put any of his things away; I feel physically sick at the thought of moving his things. I've had no choice but to move some bits and pieces because the house flooded and so I had no choice. But moving his things; his porridge, his healthy things and protein shakers from the cupboards made me want to be sick. But I had no choice and through all of this, through all of the changes I'm having to remind myself and hold on to the reality that I had no choice. I had to move his towel from the upstairs rail because the decorators needed to paint. But I felt sick moving it and it will go back as soon as the decorators have finished.

The absence of Luke is everywhere and it wraps itself around me like thick tar. I'm not sure what my purpose is anymore. I was defined by Luke and by our future together. I was his fiancee and I was going to be Luke's wife. I was a girl whose dreams had come true and who had finally ended up in her own fairytale with her prince charming (cheesy but true). I was part of an incredible couple and part of a love that can't ever be felt again. I was happy.

But Luke is gone and I'm now lost. I'm completely lost and it doesn't matter which way I turn. I just can't seem to find a point to life anymore. I have lost my purpose. I can't seem to find where I fit. I'm just floating and I just want Luke. How am I supposed to accept that he isn't coming home? How am I supposed to survive this and cope with this? What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

I miss you Luke. More than anyone can imagine. I miss your smile and I miss your touch. I love you to the moon and back. A little bit...A LOT! XXXXxxxxXXXX

Our Story

I remember the first time we met on that sunny July morning. I remember the butterflies and nerves I felt before meeting you. I must have changed my outfit so many times. I wanted to look good but not look like I'd tried to look good. We would later joke about this. I remember walking towards you. You'd just got a pint and was sitting down on the benches outside the pub and you glanced behind towards me. (I thought wow, I've got a fit one!) I noticed you doing a double take. Again this would be something we would joke about throughout our lives together. Even now I remember that moment. It's said that our minds remember the most important events in our lives and I love how this moment created a memory that I will forever hold on to.

It sounds really cliche but from the moment I sat next to you it felt as though I'd known you forever. You were someone that I was very attracted to but also wanted to be great friends with. Our date, which should have just been a few drinks at the pub, turned into an entire day together. We went shopping, had lunch, went for coffee, went to the cinema and went for dessert later on. The time with you sped past and I remember thinking I didn't want the day to end. It really was the perfect date and we both learned that I shouldn't be trusted to choose the film at the cinema because it was horrendous! I didn't want us to part. There was something about you and something about me when I was with you that I loved. You must have felt it too because the very next day you asked me to be your girlfriend and our adventure began.

Together everything was fun. I have never laughed as much as I did when I was with you. There are many stories and memories that I could tell. We would go camping just because we could with no previous plans to do so. You taught me how to body board and helped me to catch a wave on a surf board. You were incredibly patient! I remember I'd caught a wave and when I turned to my left you had caught the same wave. I loved the look you gave me. I remember thinking, "This is what life is all about." I'll always remember that moment.

The morning we were due to fly out on our holiday to Jamaica you told me that you had just bought some customized leathers for your motorbike and that you needed to go and be measured for them. You told me the cost and I wasn't best pleased and thought you could have arranged the fitting for a different day but you gave me that grin and all was forgiven! I used to joke with you all the time about how much of an awesome wife I'd be. It took you a while to laugh at this joke. :)

On our holiday to Jamaica on the flight out you told me that you were not proposing to me and that I needed to get that idea out of my head. You said that we were not coming back engaged. I remember jokingly telling you that you had really messed up because Jamaica would have been the most perfect place to propose to me. When else would you get the chance to propose in Jamaica?? You explained that you didn't have a ring.

It turned out though that you were bluffing and trying to throw me off the scent. On the 11th August 2013 you proposed to me while the stars were out and the waves were crashing against the shore. I had butterflies just like the day when we first met. I couldn't wait to say yes!  I was so excited and we were ridiculously happy. I couldn't wait to show everyone. It also turned out that you weren't being fitted for motorbike leathers, you were actually collecting my ring! Always full of surprises.

We decided that we would set the date for 23rd December 2014 and would then jet off to New York for our honeymoon. While planning for our wedding, we somehow ended up buying our very first home together! Only me and you would be budgeting for a wedding and end up buying a house. I liked our spontaneous adventures and soon came to love your spontaneous independent adventures. When you told me about these you always started with, "Don't be mad..." and followed it with the cheekiest grin.

I remember you coming home from work and telling me not to be mad but you'd bid on a motorbike. You said that last part so quickly and muttered it that I almost missed it! I think you were partially pleased when you didn't win that bid! However you did win the bid for the fish tank, which meant we both had to travel all the way to Billericay! That was always a fun event that we would laugh about.

You had booked us a couple photoshoot and we needed to take a variety of clothes. We had some posh clothes and you had a smart suit. Except you'd forgotten your socks!! That was hilarious. The photos of you in your suit are of you standing or taken without your feet in it. Every time I look at those pictures I laugh because I know that your ankles are sticking out!

I never knew what to expect when you started with, "Don't be mad." I knew it was something that you perhaps shouldn't have done! You were sent away a lot with your work and were sent to Vegas. I personally didn't think this was work! You had three rules while in Vegas. Rule 1: Don't spend our house deposit (we hadn't bought the house at this point). Rule 2: Don't marry your mate (I know what you boys are like after a few drinks!) and Rule 3: Don't get a tattoo.

You hadn't been out there for long when you messaged me with those infamous three words and confessed to waking up with a tattoo on your bum!

But these are the things that I loved about us. We were never a boring comfortable couple. We laughed and always found some sort of mischief to get up to. Life really was an exciting adventure together and it was supposed to continue on for many many years to come. You were never supposed to die. You were never supposed to not make it into work. You were never supposed to not make it to our wedding day.

I miss you every single day and I love you forever. A little bit...a lot! xxx